


Wrench's Meat Puppet Show

by FancyLadySnackCakes



Series: LowRes [8]
Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Dick Pics, F/M, Fantasizing, Lots of it, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Self Service, Texting, Two Nerds in Love, UST, Witty Banter, sorta..., thinking about anal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 07:43:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11847060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyLadySnackCakes/pseuds/FancyLadySnackCakes
Summary: Anon asked: Hello! I've been a reader of your fics for like two months now, and honestly your writings are amazing! The details, the prose, the characters. Just splendid. But, well I kinda feel like an asshole for requesting something from you (bc maaaan the stuff you write deserve dollars) but well, hehe, do you mind writing something about Wrench yanking it while thinking about LowRes? *flies away in shame*A/N: First time writing in Wrench's POV! Not sure if I did the anarchist justice or not, but it was fun as fuck to write. Thank you for the request, Anon. I hope everyone likes it. I added a shit load of new songs to my Wrench Wrecker playlist for this one (https://open.spotify.com/user/1248140777/playlist/4Nt0ZqYqA67vXTTIdLcNpk) <3See tags for warnings.





	Wrench's Meat Puppet Show

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous/gifts).



Jolly ranchers. 

Sure they were sweet, but did they make good bullets? Melted down jolly ranchers, encased in pink brass and backed with gunpowder. That way, when the coroner got around to the good part, he… or she! - had to dig out body temperature sweets. Maybe if they were exceptionally fucked up, they’d clean off the toilet blue hard candy or waste green and finish it off with a few sucks. How many licks does it take to get to the center of that nugget, right? 

Sounded like a pretty fun way to snap off a couple Prime_Eight butt pirates. Who wanted to waste actual bullets on real nut sacs anyway? Pump them full of sugar, with none the tasty benefits!

Wrench paused, tapping the toe of his chucks into a half-empty oil drum, meeting the beat of Anti Flag - the good stuff. The older stuff. His jolly rancher idea had a sense of juvenile panache, but Wrench ultimately decided something about it felt off, somehow. His heart was in the right place, but the more he thought about it, the more ‘try hard’ it was starting to sound.

It was too much, wasn’t it? Wrench wasn't sure, but he wrote it down in red marker anyway. Just in case.

The brain fart looked out of place, nestled inside the scratchy black mess of other, more doable ideas scattered around the dry erase board LowRes had gotten him in lieu of the anal he'd asked for on his birthday; the third one that year. A birthday that is. Going through three dry erase boards would have been… insane. 

“In the membrane,” he sang, flipping the marker back and forth between his fingers as another fleeting AMPED AS FUCK visual crept up, of spreading Low’s cute wittle ass cheeks open to pop the head of his dick through the tight pink ring of flesh. 

‘What’s your deal with anal anyway?’

What was her deal against it?! 

Wrench had to kick the oil drum again, pretending the dented steel was his head, just to quit acting like a damn mongoloid. Pressuring her into something she didn’t want was a dumb move… but fuck, it didn’t mean he couldn’t fantasize about it. What went on in one's own noggin’ was that person's personal baggage. 

While humming ‘Kill The Rich’ Wrench wrote - in big capital letters - the word ‘ANAL’ just so he didn't forget to ‘jokingly’ ask about it again. The way her cheeks got all rosy always made him feel scratchy-warm-awesome inside.

So far he had about… oh, seventy-five percent of the board coated in random ideas, some of them written down just to piss off Ray. That ancient fuck got too nosy for his own good. 

Wrench had a theory that when a man's balls reached a certain floor-to-dick ratio, they got all crotchety. Raymond Kenny aka Greasy Santa, had a major ‘shit didn't stink, but actually really, really did’ problem. Plus! He was starting to get too comfortable here, taking Wrench’s weed and tools and the other day?! - Wrench saw him buying his girlfriend one of those new micro screw sets online…

He was gonna buy her that… at some point. 

Wrench blinked, feeling his stomach growl. Great, now he was hungry, horny and inadequate. He had to get LowRes something, something special from the heart. Maybe make an effort to take her out of a ‘normal’ date for once. It was a running joke, kinda like his anal obsession, but there was a kernel of truth to every joke and Wrench knew taking Low on a date would mean a lot to her. That was better than a microscrew set anyone could have gotten her, wasn’t it?

He looked back at his white board, thinking that maybe there was something written down that'd be perfect for date night. A dues ex machina, if you will. Most of his ideas were gold mines just waiting for him to plant, nurture and eventually sow the fruits of their/his labor but nothing sprang out at him. Except for maybe...

The dildo gun? 

Yes, the dildo gun. ‘For when all other brain cells are focused on pussy and mayhem, the DILDO GUN was your answer to a neglected girlfriend. Diesel powered engine to ensure the vibration never stopped!’

Wrench could wine and dine and diesel dildo his wonderful girlfriend until her metaphorical head exploded. 

Bang! - glitter jizz and blurred, ultra fucked pussy galore! 

Sometimes this beautiful, sweet and tangy brain of his was wasted on burning shrimps like the Tezca’s and Manbun McGee… sometimes Wrench realized he was made for bigger and better things - things like making Low cum until she couldn't tell east from west anymore. 

With the red marker, Wrench drew a couple hearts around ‘DiLDo GUNNnnnn.’

The item right beside it on the board, ‘Racoon Repossession,’ had gotten him a stiff talking to from Marcus, something about animal cruelty but man, FUCK animals! It was all about kill or be killed. That was animal kingdom logic and all those furry fuckers, if they'd been genetically gifted with opposable thumbs, would have done people in eons ago. As far as Wrench saw it, he was merely settling a score animals hadn't enacted yet.

Plus that raccoon in the alleyway stole his s'mores milkshake last week, and that shit was unforgivable. Wrench erased it anyway, though. If he started going around exterminating raccoons that would be on his own dime and not DedSec’s.

“You know, you should really get a patent on that dildo gun thing,” an angelic voice said. “I mean, it already sounds like an off-market sex toy.” Well, maybe not angelic, but awesome nonetheless.

Wrench looked at LowRes over his shoulder and gave her a wink. Just the sugar muffin, acorn-cheeked daisy he wanted to see. She popped up just in time for him to cap the marker and tap his written, and circled, ‘ANAL’ idea whilst pointing to his crotch with a big ol’ smile translated into double-carets.

He must have been losing his touch, because she barely gave him a fleeting glance before throwing her booty up on his bench, taking a sip of his soda. She looked stressed and preoccupied. That shit wouldn’t do. 

“Ah c’mon!” Wrench probably should have pointed to the Dildo Gun first, given her in-depth explanation of it and what it was (who it was) going to do. But… he'd had blue balls for the past week, and all he could think about was juvenile destruction and sex, especially the butt sex. He needed to take her out to the pier, steal a boat and eat burgers on the water and then… fuck like animals until the sun came up. Maybe then he'd get his brain back to some degree of normalcy - maybe she’d relax a bit after a solid cluster fuck too.

Until then, though...

“Speaking of off-market sex toys,” he winked inside his mask, watching the crisp HD vision of her pinched face waiting patiently for the punch line, “you wanna hop up on this bad boy?” He said, pointing fetchingly to his dick region again. 

Low rolled her eyes but smirked, slurping up the last of his grape soda. Where were the laughs? The blushing cheeks he craved?

“I could wet my tongue if properly convinced?” He added, knowing full well she knew how little convincing that would take if any at all. Actually, it was fair to assume he’d start begging for it in a few minutes. Thankfully, Low’s eyes flickered, panning across the empty Hackerspace before finally blushing.

That was promising.

Wrench gave her a deliberate rehashed growl of seduction; grabbing the air by the hips to fuck a sweeping rhythm into the space between his palms, arching his brows which probably showed her question marks or some double nines. For whatever reason, even though she bit the corner of her lip and smirked, she didn't look as smitten as she usually did by his charming antics. Was it something he'd forgotten to do? - or was she just as pent up as him and instead of dealing with it via overzealous sex drive she was suffering silently? 

Last time something important slipped his mind, he only realized what it'd been because Horatio took pity and told him outright. One of these days he really needed to get his thoughts better organized. That one fight they had over BDSMania sucked, and he’d accepted a while ago it’d been all his fault for not knowing how to handle himself and the weird, chaotic caveman chemicals he produced. The jealousy stuff was not cool, and so far, Wrench had kept himself in check. That being said, there was little helping his perpetual horniness now that LowRes was proving to be about as eager as he was and a better person than any he’d known before. 

Marcus was still his best friend, but man… Low was his world.

Looking at him with a slight frown and curious expression, Wrench started to sweat around the soft padding of his mask. Shit - shit, he thought. His world was not fucking happy.

He kept a calendar on his phone for the important stuff. It couldn't have been anything like that, and he knew her birthday better than he did his own. 

Thinking better on his stale offer, he added, “... or? We can do what you uh, want to do? I'm fine with that. Just throwing that out there. Whatever, whenever and however.”

“Really?” She asked, sounding incredulous as well as devious. Was she fucking with him?

“Just ya know, let’s save the ball gag and- actually... fuck it. Anything!” Wrench admitted, tapping his heels with his hands safely at his sides. 

He couldn’t remember whether or not Josh had gone off with Sitara earlier, but while it wasn’t ideal for the image Wrench wanted to convey, it didn’t really matter if Josh overheard him being a bit of a submissive bitch. Besides, Wrench liked it. 

Low had already started to fuck with him when they were alone. Just harmless stuff like pinching his ass or putting her foot on his thigh, telling him to tie her shoelaces. That had been way hotter than it was supposed to be. It was all about the little things in life, he realized.

Crumpling the empty can of soda in her fist, Wrench felt his dick start to stiffen and when she slid off the bench to tug his hoodie collar? 

Straight to bonertown. 

Wrench whimpered, unable to help himself as she smirked; cute pink lips molding under her licking tongue. Oh shit - fuck him right then and there. Did they really need to go somewhere else for whatever she was thinking? Hell, Wrench could keep this major erection going even if Ray showed up halfway in. 

Two weeks without her - two weeks of being too busy for so much as a hot and heavy spooning and now he was getting dragged around, and there was sex at the end of the road!?

SEX. 

Yesss...

Wrench stumbled on weak knees as she led him up the stairs. He was in full-on ‘DESTRUCTION MODE’ when she whispered, “Tongue first, then dick.”

“Your wish is my fucking command,” he groaned - too little blood in his brain to stop from bumping into her when she stopped on the landing by the door. His hard cock slammed into her hip - sharp, sudden pleasure that was about as hardcore as a stab wound. Fuck… he should have jerked himself off that morning, or ya know, anytime this week. He was gonna pop like a champagne cork if he wasn’t careful.

“It’s gonna need to be quick-”

“It will,” he admitted, probably looking at her with the hearts.

LowRes smiled, teeth in her lower lip, fingers in his belt loops and-

The door opened.

Out of the doorway, Wrench watched Sitara blink, skimming her green-painted eyes over the both of them with her arms stuffed full of spray cans and canvas sling packs. Well, fuck. She must have seen the boner leaning against LowRes’ hip because her throat broke into a hard chuckle, “Seriously you guys? I can’t tell which of us has the shit timing.”

Low made a frustrated sound, slipping her hands off his jeans and left him - fucking left him! - on the landing to follow Sitara back down the stairs.

“Sooo…” Wrench muttered, “... are we not-”

“LowRes paused and gave him a pink-cheeked look of regret. “Sitara’s got this thing down by the Pier I promised I’d help her with,” she told him, looking appropriately apologetic as she descended back into the Hackerspace. “Sorry,” she called back, “Hey! - idea! Why don’t you plan a date or something?”

“What’s a date,” he asked cheekily, grinning despite the raging hard on he was sporting.

“You’re smart, figure it out.” 

Her voice trailed off; a mixture of supreme letdown and amusement. What a monster, Wrench thought lovingly. There was nothing funny about a masked anarchist with a dick hard enough to break a car windshield… oooh, he had to write that down on the whiteboard before he forgot.

With the words ‘DICK HAMMER’ spelled out on his board, and his cock finally soft, LowRes saddled up beside him with one of those paint-splattered canvas packs slung over one shoulder, and a helmet unlatched on her head.

She looked smokin…

Dressed in a flowy tank top and some tight track shorts with ankle-high chucks and… leather gloves. Quickly, as she gave his neck a quick kiss, Wrench fumbled for his phone, nearly tripping over his own ankles as his girlfriend started to hit the stairs.

“Wait-wait-wait! Two seconds,” he pleaded, trying to pull up the camera app on his phone as his stupid dick started to inflate again. It was distracting, and LowRes was just laughing back at him as she took the stairs two at a time. He managed to get a blurry picture of her ass before it disappeared through the door. By the time he realized what an opportunity he’d just missed, his dick was painfully hard and his heart was hammering in his chest. 

“Fuck me…” Wrench blurted, staring wide-eyed at the stairwell as though she’d materialize if he looked at it hard enough. She wasn’t. It was like… noon already and she’d be gone with Sitara on their girl-adventure of vandalism and hot sticky girl-on-girl antics. They weren’t… obviously doing sticky stuff, but Wrench could imagine whatever he wanted, right? 

Under his zipper, his cock twitched. Maybe that wasn’t such a great idea. Wrench didn’t want another case of blue balls, and that’s what this had turned into. 

Unless…

Eyeing the Hackerspace with pursed lips and narrowed LEDs, he meandered over to Josh’s area, thumbs in his pockets in a super not-devious manner only to find Josh’s chair empty. He did another walkthrough and found no one. So, he was alone, huh?

Without an ounce of shame, Wrench threw himself on the big sofa, the same one he had Low bent over a month back, asking - no, begging - him to spank her while he railed her. He liked the passionate, sweet sex more than anything, but right now he was all about the dirty, filthy, nasty as fuck aspects of fucking. Why hadn’t she worn anything like that before today? Those little spandex shorts… if his eyes could pop outta his skull just off of what her rear end looked like with clothes on, he’d have been blinded a long time ago.

Lounging on the sofa, with his boner trying to break the zipper on his jeans, Wrench sent LowRes a quick text, added a heart emoji and watched the screen for a reply.

Three minutes later those running ellipses popped up on the convo feed.

‘As if you don’t have a bunch of stalker pictures of me on your phone already,’ she replied.

She’d been looking through his phone then. Meh, fair enough, he thought. He had nothing to hide, and it wasn’t like he didn’t know what she had on hers or her computer for that matter. It wasn’t stalking if your stalkee was also stalking you, right? And it wasn’t malicious as much as it was trying to find out what he could get her to express his undying love. So far Wrench never got that far, always got distracted by her ‘porn’ searches, but his intentions were pure!

Wrench kicked his heels into the armrest and typed back a long-winded reply, ‘You wound me. I would never have non-con’sex’ual pictures of you on my phone… except for those ones I took when you were high last week. Just because you're the best person in the world doesn’t mean you get to avoid my rules on blackmail. So, send me a selfie so I can masturbate to it until you get back? I think I can feel my balls shrinking into the vast abyssal nothingness.’

She snapped back a reply lickety-split. 

‘I love you, but I’m not taking selfies while Sitara’s driving. I have a reputation to uphold. Just watch some anal porn or something.’

That hurt. Contrary to popular belief Wrench hadn’t watched porn in awhile… why bother with it when he had LowRes, beauty and brains, and someone that actually loved him and loved getting boned by him.

Behind his mask, he stuck his tongue out, tasting hot leather and sweat before mashing a response. 

‘You wound me! You’re my only spank material.’

‘Whatever, weirdo. I'm about to be climbing a huge crab. No more texting.’

‘Please?!’ He sent her a picture of the boner in question, outlined in denim down the line of his inner thigh, just so she knew how dangerous the situation really was. 

‘Don't cum on Ray’s chair again and maybe set up a date tonight or something? You might even get a blow job out of it.’ A winky face was attached to that one.

‘If you're lucky.’ Low added, sending him a heart emoji and one of those ‘pointer fingers’ going into the ‘okay hand sign.’ That was promising, but it still didn't solve his adamantium dick crisis. 

“Fuuuuh’ck,” Wrenched whined, stretching on on the sofa with a tragic leg kick. 

It could be worse. He was alone. No one was around to stifle the dripping hormones within, and he had one wild and wacky imagination, or so he'd been told before. He could just put LowRes in the most perverted situation he could think of and BLAST OFF! 

He was already primed and ready to go, just a few strokes off of Wrench Jr. Jr. and another rub-session before the ‘date thing’ and Wrench figured everything would be back to normal. Normal libido… normal thought patterns… normal hot girlfriend with a pension for shenanigans and crypto-shit.

Yeah, life was good. Real good, he thought as he flicked the button on his jeans. He savored the drag of the zipper, feeling the pressure oh-so-slowly let up off his dick. He wiggled his hips a few times, the head of his cock pulling between his thigh and boxers and just before creaming his jeans, the monster sprang free; boxers tented.

LowRes was right, he had some naughty pictures of her on his phone. All of them totally taken with her permission of course, but he was cool with using his imagination this time, might be more fun that way. 

Wrench started with some build up - some plot device that’d lead to the good stuff. An epic mental foreplay, if you will. They’d already done it on a boat… that first time was choice spank material by now but, maybe he’d indulge himself and pretend he hadn’t gotten fucked from six ways til Sunday by her already. Before that first time - that night they’d outrun the cops, nearly gotten shot and ended up fucking on that charter boat - Wrench used to come up with all sorts of reasons why she’d be into him. Back then he wasn’t really sure he’d stand a chance getting with a girl like her. Realizing the kind of relationship he had with Low now was almost enough to make him dizzy, sure as shit was enough to make his dick jump. 

Careful not to jostle the ultra tender dick piercing, Wrench fingered the slit in his boxers open and tugged his cock out. The air hit the sweaty skin like a bitch slap - it came with the vivid image of Low backhanding his dick with a sweet smile on her face.

“Well damn, that was hotter than I thought it’d be,” he mumbled, squeezing the base with a choppy sigh. 

Self-service could be one hell of a treat, and though Wrench would have much rather had LowRes here with him, thinking about her like he did before they starting dating was pretty pleasant too. His favorite wank fantasy involved saving her from a bunch of fucksticks like the studded hero he was. Like a masked vigilante, at the right place at the right time.

The details for the fantasy were always pretty cliche, even by his standards but the whole point of it was that Wrench would step in, start a fist fight, maybe take a couple hits because bruises were hot, and lay the assholes on the deck. LowRes would be grateful, but she wouldn’t just up and fall on his dick after...

Wrench arched his back, got comfy and lifted the mask up over his forehead. 

The smell of musk hit him, making the fantasy easy to fall into. As much as he didn’t mind getting caught with Low in a compromised position, he wasn’t as keen to get walked in on with his own dick in his hand, so he kept an ear out as he began a loose rhythm.

“There we go, ready set… go…” he sighed, closing his eyes as the AC kicked on, tickling the skin on his face and cooling the wet dribble of precum on Wrench Jr. Jr.s head.

Now… Where was he? The aftermath, right. 

So, she’d be frightened, breathing hard… this time she was wearing those tight spandex shorts and the loose tank top that, when she twisted at the waist, Wrench got side boob action. Sweaty - she’d be sweaty and close, and she’d say his name and hug him around the chest, thankful he’d gotten there when he did.

‘Oh, God… Wrench, thank you!’ 

Wrench tugged on his dick until a fat leak of fluid slipped out the slit. With a grunt, he let go of his dick, spat a wad of saliva into his palm and lathered up. The spit tried to dry under the air vents, but he was already so close, and the slippery pre-cum kept him from chaffing himself. The original lubricant! Worked wonders.

Sometimes, she’d kiss him after he saved her… other times, this time, Wrench pulled her back, checked her over for injuries and settled on stroking her chin, watching her eyes shimmer and a shaken smile pull at her lips. He’d take her out for some coffee and donuts, enjoying the jealous looks he’d get from the guys and gals. Because fuck… why would a beautiful girl like her hang on his every word?

It was a bit pathetic of him, but that part always got him dangerously close to cumming. 

Two fast, rough strokes and Wrench bit his lower lip - right fucking there.

“Shit…” he panted, swallowing a lump in his throat. He pinched his fingers around the girth of his dick until he was sure he wasn’t gonna blow a load too soon. Had to get to the dirty part before he made a mess, right? 

In his fantasy, he and LowRes would end up back in his garage, with a couple beers and there she’d see a bruise or some blood… something showing around the mask - something to warrant his taking the mask off. 

‘You’re hurt…’

Wrench would try to shrug it off, make a joke but she’d insist, and after some promises of secrecy, he’d let her see his face. In his head it made sense - in his head, he wasn’t all that shy about it… in his head, she’d think he was cute and smile, and after cleaning off the blood from his lip or putting an ice pack to the bruise on his eye, she’d kiss him.

The rhythm of his strokes increased. 

LowRes would push him back on a bed, even though he didn’t have a bed in the garage. 

Maybe he’d buy a twin and stick it up in the loft for when he wanted some sorta-kinda vanilla sex. Call him ol’fashion, but Wrench liked the idea of having sex with her in a soft, bouncy bed. 

In his mind, she’d kiss down his neck, down his chest, down his stomach and swallow all of his dick. Just, crazy-awesome deep throat action.

“... shit, shit,” he cursed, pumping his hips up; tightening his fist.

His fingers kept bumping the piercing, sending little thundershocks down the root of his cock. Every time that knot started in his stomach, he’d let off - let his dick jerk a bit in mid air before snatching it back up again once the feeling went away. Wrench wanted to make it last, but hell, he wasn’t sure where everyone was in all honesty. No good would come from intimidating any of the fellas… and this dick of his, well, it must be epic is Low liked it so much.

Probably have a quick one now, then do another in the bathroom an hour before he saw his sweet dumpling.

Wrench tugged the hem of his hoodie up over her stomach, pinching it under his chin as he watched himself fist fuck his dick. He fumbled for his phone again, lifted his hips up a bit for a better angle and snapped a dick pic.

Wrench whimpered, running a loose fist up and down as he sent the picture to Low, licking his lower lip as pleasure started to swell under his navel. Felt good when his abdomen was all taut and quivering like that, looking kinda high-def porn good too. 

The pic expanded as it showed up on the convo feed, getting him immediate ellipses in return. They ran for a minute, making Wrench sweat in anticipation and nerves while fisting his dick teasingly.

He wondered if LowRes thought his dick looked nice or if he was just egotistical to believe it was attractive. Did women find dicks attractive? He’d never sent her a dick pic before. That wasn’t smart, was it? Girls hated that and… dumb sex brain for the fail, he thought.

His phone dinged. LowRes’ ‘Looks delicious’ reply sent a hard twang down his torso. The heart emoji that followed made his chest tight and, unashamed, Wrench let himself moan. It wasn't a manly grunt or sigh. No, it was a weak moan - one of those indulgent, no-one-else-around moans.

Feeling justified, wrench closed his eyes, swiped a thumb over the drooling slit of his cock and began fisting the first few inches like a mad sculptor. Fantasy LowRes was swallowing his cock down like a champ, fisting the excess with her smooth hacker fingers, making these super hot and very enthusiastic wet slurping sounds. 

Drool was everywhere. LowRes slurped and sucked, smothering his cockhead is wet kisses and flicked her pink tongue over the metal in his dick until Wrench was thumbing it himself, rubbing the helmet in the warm, rough skin of his palm, feeling that knot start tightening again.

His balls pulled taut. 

“Fuck, fuck me…” Wrench moaned again, whimpering as he slowed to a crawl again. He backed off until his sac started to ache. Next time he’d cum - he had to. He was so fucking sick of blue balls… fuck…

Colorful images of Low posing for him in that outfit, bent over the sofa, arching over his bench - those shorts pulled sharply to the side as his cock plowed through all that warm, tight flesh. Like she was made for him. 

God dammit, nothing - no one! - felt as good as she did. Her name was on his lips, her real name, as he brought himself to the edge again, panting and wincing at the sharp bliss. 

Wrench licked his lips, swallowed a wad of spit and dug his heels into the sofa. One hand beating his red-tipped dick, going slick and fast over meat and metal alike, and his other reaching up to hold onto the cushion behind his head. He pictured LowRes shoving those skin-tight shorts down over the supple fat of her ass. 

She was begging for it, spreading her ass cheeks wide open with her fingers, exposing that tight ring of flesh that he wanted to… fuck...

His cock surged, ripping the cum right outta his balls, through his dick like a lava funnel and -

“Yesss, shit! Fucking shit! … fuck!” Pleasure blinded him for a second before he realized he was cumming all over his boxers. Wrench hissed, squeezing upward as another jet shot out, making a real mess of his hoodie. 

Wrench blinked, focusing on the white droplets of jizz all over his clothes and… damn, he even got some on the sofa. Well, whatever, it wouldn’t be the first time. This couch was probably half human considering all the bodily fluids they’d spilled on it. Still, now he’d have to steal another hoodie out of the vending machine and scrub his boxers before the stains got crusty.

LowRes didn’t have to worry about crap like this. She got multiple orgasms and little to no mess to clean up. He’d be jealous if he were a selfish man.

He felt sweat on the back of his neck, and the small of his back. Inside his jeans, his legs felt tacky and he could probably use a hot shower if he were honest. If Wrench got that blowjob Low put on the table, he wanted to smell nice and clean. Just because Wrench liked the way her sweat tasted didn’t mean she liked his. 

That was another thing he had to ask her.

Wrench released a massive, pleased breath and closed his eyes. Fantasy LowRes was getting fucked in the ass, enjoying it - loving it and he was spanking her rosy cheeks and calling her his succubus, but in reality, Wrench was basking in the glow of a rather stellar orgasm, letting his muscles go all floppy while the AC started blasting cold air on him.

The real Low didn’t want to get butt fucked, but damn… there was something about the idea that really did it for him. Could be that he’d never done it before, and it required a level of trust not exactly as intense as the mask thing, but it was up there. Wrench guessed it was a placeholder for something else… maybe commitment or something. No, that sounded dumb. Maybe he just really wanted it, and that was it - nothing more and nothing less.

With a sigh, Wrench ruffled his bangs, licked his lips clean of sweat and tugged his mask back over his face. He cleaned himself up in brilliant HD, watching his dick soften and the cum stains slowly come up out of his boxers with a rag dipped in baking soda and water. 

Bare-chested, jeans undone to let his boxers dry, Wrench leaned against the bench and pulled out his phone. He could still smell the reek of jizz, but a shower would fix that right up.

He sent Low a quick text, ‘The demons have been exorcised. You want Mexican or American?’

He didn’t get a reply until he was naked in the graffiti-stained shower stall, thrash turned up to eleven and soaping up his semi-hard dick while thinking about how he hadn’t had shower sex with Low yet and realized that he really, really wanted to.

His phone buzzed. Wrench peered down at it, face up on the toilet seat, and read her reply.

‘First of all, thanks for the female equivalent of blue balls. I hope you’re happy and second… you mean food, right? I kinda feel like Asian. Think I can trust you to pick up what I like without asking Josh?’

Wrench pouted, water dripping off his chin to the towel under his phone and quit fucking around. He got himself squeaky clean, redressed and sent her a text back. ‘Give me a little credit, muffin. I’ve been researching what this ‘date stuff’ entails. Prepare to be woo-ed.’

‘Already wooed.’

‘Seduced?’ he typed back.

Wrench had enough time to brush his teeth, chug an energy drink and scrape off the crusty jizz from the sofa before LowRes pinged his phone back with a heartwarming ‘Always’ followed by a simple ‘ETA: one hour and fifteen minutes.’

Usually, he’d play this shit by ear, but while he liked to make a point of going against the grain, he wasn’t dumb. This date tonight was a test. So, Wrench called that Chinese joint across the city, put in an order for six different combo meals because honestly, he didn’t remember what she ordered, but! - he also refused to ask Josh. That guy should not know more about his girlfriend than Wrench did. 

Food ordered. Boat reserved. Prime fuck-music compiled into a new playlist for tonight and a brown-bag full of rolled joints, condoms, lube and a few other nick nacks just in case. 

He was ready. And so - he waited.

Josh and Marcus showed up fifteen minutes before LowRes and Sitara walked down the stairs, which was just enough time for Wrench to get two beers in him.

“Behold!” He declared as his sugar muffin hit the landing. 

He spread his palms out at the sweaty but gorgeous sight of the most perfect acorn in the whole wide world and felt himself melt a little when she booked it towards him and collapsed into his arms, groaning almost sexually.

“Dude… “ Low sighed, “she wore me the fuck out.”

Wrench imagined two lovely ladies locked in a naked wrestling match, making out while their hips worked in corkscrew motions and-

Against his neck, Low whispered incredulously, “Do you have a boner already?”

“It’s a pattern on the pants,” he told her in all seriousness, patting her back with a big smile; double-carets on display. Before she could speak back up, Wrench spun her around, grabbed his brown paper bag and asked her, “Ready for date night?” A wink for added effect and BINGO. That look on her face said he had her right where he wanted her.

Unable to stop from smiling - score one for Wrench - LowRes took his empty hand, the same hand he'd been jerkin’ it with, and smiled, “Alright, but if I get killed during my first actual Wrench Date, I’m haunting your ass.”

“Don’t worry,” he reassured her, “if you're dead, I’ve been dead for days.”

Wrench bit his lower lip as she grabbed the heft of his vest, tugging close enough for one of her epic throat kisses and off they went. The way she twisted at the waist got him that sweet side boob action too. 

Tonight was gonna be EPIC!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! - and thank you for the request, Anon. This was a joy to write, challenging considering I'm always nervous to write a male POV, especially with a character as complex as Wrench. I hope I did him a measure of justice. If you have the time, please leave me a comment letting me know what you liked, or didn't like. It's much appreciated!
> 
> Also, thank you DarthFucamus for reading it over for any discrepancies. <3
> 
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